For love or money
“Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and then for money.” - Moliere
I came across this quote in this past week and it immediately grabbed my attention. I guess it felt especially relevant since I recently started whoring my writing. In a way that is why I started this blog. To keep it pure. Uninfluenced by "what sells" and rather driven by something deeper: verbal diarrhoea.
A place where I can spew, well, anything.
Yet I am wondering about the statement. Does Moliere state that because we sell, we cannot love? Or can we love while making a buck on the side? And don't you just love how "friends" sits smack bang between love and money.
But there are (as usual) two (at least) sides to this tale.
If I love, I want to do more with that love and somehow that "doing more" usually ends up with some form of remuneration.
Let's look at an example:
I love to paint. I paint all the time. I end up with a 100 paintings.
I give them to friends, coz I have no more space it the house. I have 55 friends.
I'm left with 45 paintings. What do I do? Throw them away? No, I LOVE them! So I hang 25 in the house and sell the rest. (Or at least try to sell the rest.)
Add to that another quote, something like: If you love what you do you will never work another day in your life, who can blame us for making a buck while doing what we love.
But then there is the other side.
The side filled with deadlines and specific briefs and American vs British spelling and you get to the point where you forget why you loved, or maybe even that you loved.
So if I reach that point; the point where writing only brings money and no more love, there will be only one way to go:
Take the money and find a new love.
P.S No I don't really have a 100 paintings, so please stop asking :)
I came across this quote in this past week and it immediately grabbed my attention. I guess it felt especially relevant since I recently started whoring my writing. In a way that is why I started this blog. To keep it pure. Uninfluenced by "what sells" and rather driven by something deeper: verbal diarrhoea.
A place where I can spew, well, anything.
Yet I am wondering about the statement. Does Moliere state that because we sell, we cannot love? Or can we love while making a buck on the side? And don't you just love how "friends" sits smack bang between love and money.
But there are (as usual) two (at least) sides to this tale.
If I love, I want to do more with that love and somehow that "doing more" usually ends up with some form of remuneration.
Let's look at an example:
I love to paint. I paint all the time. I end up with a 100 paintings.
I give them to friends, coz I have no more space it the house. I have 55 friends.
I'm left with 45 paintings. What do I do? Throw them away? No, I LOVE them! So I hang 25 in the house and sell the rest. (Or at least try to sell the rest.)
Add to that another quote, something like: If you love what you do you will never work another day in your life, who can blame us for making a buck while doing what we love.
But then there is the other side.
The side filled with deadlines and specific briefs and American vs British spelling and you get to the point where you forget why you loved, or maybe even that you loved.
So if I reach that point; the point where writing only brings money and no more love, there will be only one way to go:
Take the money and find a new love.
P.S No I don't really have a 100 paintings, so please stop asking :)
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